Добавлено: Вс Мар 08, 2009 8:01 am Заголовок сообщения: 16
Bump up then lurk
??Pierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in Petersburg, and had been expelled from there for riotous conduct and sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostov's was true. Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman to a bear. He had now been for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his father's house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade would be already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father- who were never favorably disposed toward him- would have used it to turn the count against him, he nevertheless on the day of his arrival went to his father's part of the house. Entering the drawing room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third read aloud. It was the eldest who was reading- the one who had met Anna Mikhaylovna. The two younger ones were embroidering: both were rosy and pretty and they differed only in that one had a little mole on her lip which made her much prettier. Pierre was received as if he were a corpse or a leper. The eldest princess paused in her reading and silently stared at him with frightened eyes; the second assumed precisely the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the mole, who was of a cheerful and lively disposition, bent over her frame to hide a smile probably evoked by the amusing scene she foresaw. She drew her wool down through the canvas and, scarcely able to refrain from laughing, stooped as if trying to make out the pattern.
??"How do you do, cousin?" said Pierre. "You don't recognize me?"
??"I recognize you only too well, too well."
??"How is the count? Can I see him?" asked Pierre, awkwardly as usual, but unabashed.
??"The count is suffering physically and mentally, and apparently you have done your best to increase his mental sufferings."
??"Can I see the count?" Pierre again asked.
??"Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright, you can see him... Olga, go and see whether Uncle's beef tea is ready- it is almost time," she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently he, Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance.
??Olga went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed and said: "Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can see him."
??And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of the sister with the mole.
??Next day Prince Vasili had arrived and settled in the count's house. He sent for Pierre and said to him: "My dear fellow, if you are going to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very badly; that is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very ill, and you must not see him at all."
??Since then Pierre had not been disturbed and had spent the whole time in his rooms upstairs.
??When Boris appeared at his door Pierre was pacing up and down his room, stopping occasionally at a corner to make menacing gestures at the wall, as if running a sword through an invisible foe, and glaring savagely over his spectacles, and then again resuming his walk, muttering indistinct words, shrugging his shoulders and gesticulating.
??"England is done for," said he, scowling and pointing his finger at someone unseen. "Mr. Pitt, as a traitor to the nation and to the rights of man, is sentenced to..." But before Pierre- who at that moment imagined himself to be Napoleon in person and to have just effected the dangerous crossing of the Straits of Dover and captured London- could pronounce Pitt's sentence, he saw a well-built and handsome young officer entering his room. Pierre paused. He had left Moscow when Boris was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten him, but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Boris by the hand with a friendly smile.
??"Do you remember me?" asked Boris quietly with a pleasant smile. "I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not well."
??"Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing him," answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was.
??Boris felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider it necessary to introduce himself, and without experiencing the least embarrassment looked Pierre straight in the face.
??"Count Rostov asks you to come to dinner today," said he, after a considerable pause which made Pierre feel uncomfortable.
??"Ah, Count Rostov!" exclaimed Pierre joyfully. "Then you are his son, Ilya? Only fancy, I didn't know you at first. Do you remember how we went to the Sparrow Hills with Madame Jacquot?... It's such an age..."
??"You are mistaken," said Boris deliberately, with a bold and slightly sarcastic smile. "I am Boris, son of Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya. Rostov, the father, is Ilya, and his son is Nicholas. I never knew any Madame Jacquot."
??Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes or bees.
??"Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I've mixed everything up. One has so many relatives in Moscow! So you are Boris? Of course. Well, now we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne expedition? The English will come off badly, you know, if Napoleon gets across the Channel. I think the expedition is quite feasible. If only Villeneuve doesn't make a mess of things!
??Boris knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition; he did not read the papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve's name.
??"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone. "I know nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly busy with gossip," he continued. "Just now they are talking about you and your father."
??Pierre smiled in his good-natured way as if afraid for his companion's sake that the latter might say something he would afterwards regret. But Boris spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, looking straight into Pierre's eyes.
??"Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip," Boris went on. "Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune, though he may perhaps outlive us all, as I sincerely hope he will..."
??"Yes, it is all very horrid," interrupted Pierre, "very horrid."
??Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently say something disconcerting to himself.
??"And it must seem to you," said Boris flushing slightly, but not changing his tone or attitude, "it must seem to you that everyone is trying to get something out of the rich man?"
??"So it does," thought Pierre.
??"But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people. We are very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that your father is rich, I don't regard myself as a relation of his, and neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him."
??For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a feeling of mingled shame and vexation.
??"Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I know very well..."
??But Boris again interrupted him.
??"I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You must excuse me," said he, putting Pierre at ease instead of being put at ease by him, "but I hope I have not offended you. I always make it a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you come to dinner at the Rostovs'?"
??And Boris, having apparently relieved himself of an onerous duty and extricated himself from an awkward situation and placed another in it, became quite pleasant again.
??"No, but I say," said Pierre, calming down, "you are a wonderful fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you don't know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite understand. I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the courage, but it's splendid. I am very glad to have made your acquaintance. It's queer," he added after a pause, "that you should have suspected me!" He began to laugh. "Well, what of it! I hope we'll get better acquainted," and he pressed Boris' hand. "Do you know, I have not once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I am sorry for him as a man, but what can one do?"
??"And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?" asked Boris with a smile.
??Pierre saw that Boris wished to change the subject, and being of the same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of the Boulogne expedition.
??A footman came in to summon Boris- the princess was going. Pierre, in order to make Boris' better acquaintance, promised to come to dinner, and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his spectacles into Boris' eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an imaginary foe with his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance of that pleasant, intelligent, and resolute young man.
??As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a lonely life, he felt an unaccountable tenderness for this young man and made up his mind that they would be friends.
??Prince Vasili saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief to her eyes and her face was tearful.
??"It is dreadful, dreadful!" she was saying, "but cost me what it may I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be left like this. Every moment is precious. I can't think why his nieces put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare him!... Adieu, Prince! May God support you..."
??"Adieu, ma bonne," answered Prince Vasili turning away from her.
??"Oh, he is in a dreadful state," said the mother to her son when they were in the carriage. "He hardly recognizes anybody."
??"I don't understand, Mamma- what is his attitude to Pierre?" asked the son.
??"The will will show that, my dear; our fate also depends on it."
??"But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?"
??"Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!"
??"Well, that is hardly a sufficient reason, Mamma..."
??"Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!" exclaimed the mother.
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Добавлено: Вс Мар 08, 2009 9:08 pm Заголовок сообщения: 12
I'm going to bump the thread
INT. PENTHOUSE - NIGHT
They enter. Edward switches on a light. Vivian comes down the
steps into the room. Edward follows after her.
You're awfully quiet. You haven't
said a word since the party.
As Edward touches her shoulder, Vivian suddenly spins and
explodes with anger.
You asshole! I can't believe what
Vivian, what the --
Tears well in Vivian's eyes as she yells at him.
Clean the slut up, take her out,
huh?! What are you trying to
prove!? I'm not a piece of meat
for you to offer to your friends!
I don't know what you're talking
I've been with stinking old men
who've made me want to puke but
I've never had anyone make me feel
as dirty as you did tonight.
Would you please calm down. Tell
me what happened.
Stuckey! He wants an
"appointment" with me after you
leave. You my pimp now or did
he think that up on his own?
Edward looks guiltily away.
What was I supposed to do?
I told the truth. Why should the
truth upset you? It's not as if
you're from a convent.
I want my fucking money. I'm
getting out of here. I don't want
anything more to do with you.
Can we talk about this? Can you
just try to calm down?
Your goddamned friend, he thinks
the only reason I'm with you is
for the money.
A tear falls from Vivian's eyes.
Well, it's true. Just pay me
what you owe me and I'm gone.
Pay me! Before I pick up this
chair and smash your face in.
Fine. I'm only here a couple
of more days and I'm not going
to spend them fighting with you.
I'll call you a cab. If you want
the clothes, pack them up.
Vivian stands quietly for a moment. And then she turns and
walks into the bedroom.
INT. PENTHOUSE BEDROOM - NIGHT
Vivian starts roughly picking up her clothes in the dim light
of the bedroom. As she does she starts crying. With each item
of clothing the tears come down harder. Edward appears at the
doorway. His face is genuinely concerned.
Vivian... I'm sorry. I wasn't
prepared for questions about us.
It was an idiotic and insensitive
thing I did. I should have known
that it would hurt you.
I'm not hurt. It doesn't hurt
you when somebody pisses on you,
it just pissed you off.
I really am sorry.
Vivian lets the clothes fall from her arms. Sobbing, she stands
You hurt me.
Edward goes to her and wraps his arms around her shoulders.
She touches his hand. He sits on the bed. He pulls her to him
and wraps his arms around her, holds her tight.
I'll make it up to you.
INT. BROKERAGE HOUSE - DAY
Edward, carrying a briefcase, moves jauntily down a long
hallway. Stuckey trails after him.
This is no time to disappear.
We're in too far.
Bill? Stop panicking. Kross
isn't going anywhere and I don't
need to spend the rest of the day
watching his stock go down. I'll
be in the office tomorrow.
Promise me you'll read those
contracts by then.
Stuckey stops. He calls after Edward.
Shit... By tomorrow, Edward!
Edward hurries on.
EXT. REGENT BEVERLY WILSHIRE - DAY
Edward exits out of his limo and walks to the front doors.
INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY
Edward smiles, moving jauntily to the elevators. Mr. Thomas
at the front desk notices Edward's happy mood.
Good afternoon, Mr. Harris.
Edward's attention is taken by the glittering jewelry display
in the hotel jewelry store window. He detours from the
elevators and moves to the window for a closer look. He thinks
a moment and enters the jewelry store.
INT. PENTHOUSE - AFTERNOON
Vivian comes out of the bedroom into the living room wearing
an elegant red sequined evening dress. She looks incredibly
beautiful. She sees the phone. A thought occurs to her and
going to it, she picks it up. Waits.
No answer. She hears someone at the door. She hangs up.
Edward enters. He is carrying a small case. He stops at the
sight of Vivian.
Do I look okay?
(a small smile)
Hmm... let's see... no, there's
He holds up the small case.
I don't want you to get too
excited... these are on loan...
Vivian's jaw drops. Edward is holding a diamond and ruby
necklace in his hands, holds it as if it might melt if he
breathed too hard. Edward behind Vivian, fastens the
necklace around her neck.
This is made for a princess.
I think she'd approve of you
wearing it tonight. There.
He leads her to a mirror. She stares at her reflection.
Edward, I can't.
Shush. Of course you can.
What if I lose it?
What if someone tries to steal
I'll guard them and you with my
EDT. BURBANK AIRPORT - DAY
A limo pulls onto the tarmac at Burbank Airport. A PILOT in
a leather jacket and sunglasses hurries forward to open the limo
door. Edward -- now wearing evening clothes -- and Vivian climbs
out of the limo.
Your plane is ready to go, Mr.
Taking her arm, Edward leads her across the tarmac.
You don't want to go all the way
to San Francisco in a limousine,
do you? I don't.
Where are you taking me!?
To meet some friends. Rudolpho,
a poet... Benoit, a landlord...
Mimi, a flower maker...
Up ahead is a waiting private jet, its engines already HUMMING.
She is speechless. Edward grins, loving the look on her face.
EXT. BURBANK AIRPORT - DAY
The corporate jet takes off down the landing strip.
INT. CORPORATE JET - DAY
Edward and Vivian are alone in the passenger lounge of the jet.
Vivian can't believe the cabin. It is a comfortable room
featuring a long couch that curves across two walls, built in
bar, television and stereo. Edward is once again, going over
I've never been on a plane
I'm glad you like it. Now be
quiet, I've really got to read
Vivian fluffs her hair up. She makes a happy, excited growling
sound -- Rrrrr! A wicked gleam comes to her eye.
She walks over to Edward and stands in front of him. He looks
up. She parts the thigh high slit in her gown to expose silken
quarters. She begins to unfasten the garters one at a time.
Vivian, what do you think you're
Edward watches silk stockings slide down Vivian's lovely legs.
She reaches out and gently caresses Edward's face. Edward sets
down his papers.
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